


Oasis

by YaminoTenshi202



Series: Hydrangea [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Akira Kogane is Keith's Dad, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Birth, Canonical Character Death, Consideration of Murder, F/M, Folklore, Mainly this is about Keith's Dad, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-07-07 04:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15900687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaminoTenshi202/pseuds/YaminoTenshi202
Summary: “Should we show him the world outside of me?” Krolia took their son from Akira’s arms, and they went outside, standing and facing the sun as it warmed the Earth.-What would Akira tell his son when he was older? Would he tell him that the first thing his mother asked of him, was to live? That she was an angel from war? That she abandoned peace for him?That would be too great of a weight for Keith to bear; Akira found that he wanted that burden too much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> “In the desert, you see, there is everything and nothing… it is God without mankind.”
> 
> \- A Passion in the Desert

Akira could feel the air change around them as the sun began to rise. The pink of the dawn gave a gentle warning of the heat to come and greet the desert, Akira, his family, and his livestock. He stretched in bed, attempting to relieve his back of the tiredness that had settled in during the night. He felt a warm body turn into his side, the soft breathing of Krolia tickling his skin. In return, he laid his hand on her, pulling them a bit closer together. She sighed.

Akira looked over to her, admiring her sleeping face. It was one of the few times of their daily lives that Krolia looked relaxed. Her body was devoid of tension, no trace of a scowl on her face. It was more common for her to sleep now, her body needing more rest. The only part of her under some type of tension, even now, was at her abdomen, where a child was currently kicking. Akira’s stomach, hard with muscle as Krolia’s had once been, rested against the rounded belly of his love, and he could feel their child kick outwards. They were strong for a baby of only five months, but that was apparently normal.

Krolia’s firstborn child had been born at what would have amounted to six Earth months, and they had only been half Galra as well. Akira had gotten what he needed for the birth two months ago, and Krolia felt confident enough in her own experiences. They were ready for this child, and they would protect them from anything that life would throw at them.

“What are you thinking about?” Her voice was gentle and firm, evidence that she’d lived longer and through much more than he could ever imagine.

“The future, I guess.” Krolia’s eye followed Akira as he moved to sit up against the the headboard of their bed. “Are you hungry?”

“Not really.” Krolia sighed, sitting up slowly. She wrinkled her nose and stretched out her arms. Akira couldn’t help but notice the relaxed posture of his love grow tense with the energy of awakening, and he felt himself longing. She laid a hand on her round belly and wrinkled her nose again.

“Is something wrong?”

“… I think the kit is coming soon. Possibly today.” Akira shot up from his spot against the headboard. His heart was ready to start jumping out of his chest, but Krolia seemed so calm, if her stern expression meant anything – it was the expression that she usually wore anyway.

‘Calm down. She’s done this before…’

“Um.. Then I’ll get the sheets and towels ready, then.”

“No.” A hand placed itself on Akira’s arm. Akira expected assurance or even amusement as to his quick sense of worry, as Krolia could have smelt it rolling off of him, but that’s not what he saw.

“Just…” Krolia closed her eyes, grimacing for the quickest moment, before frowning. “No, get them. You’re right.”

“Krolia, tell me.” Akira placed a hand on hers.

She closed her eyes, her frown setting in deeper and more striking on her face. Krolia’s hand gripped Akira’s arm, her claws digging into his skin, enough that Akira remembered how dangerous she could be.

“It… It’s too soon,” she breathed out, practically voiceless. Akira could smell a wetness in the air, and he moved slowly as Krolia’s breathing became uneven. The towels were close by, so Akira cooed and coddled her onto some that he began to set out with just one hand. Krolia moved, her lower lip trembling as her body tensed and that frown that marred her face grew grimmer every few minutes with each contraction.

She did finally let go of him, and Akira paid no attention to the blood on his arm. That was the least he could do.

The steamer that he had bought several years ago had been cleaned and was soon moistening and heating the towels they would need. The water at the bottom would stay in its container, Akira carrying it close to the bed and setting it on the night-table. A sterilized knife was close by.

Krolia sat against the headboard, her back arching forward as she curled around her belly. Her breathing, shaky, was becoming more even, but she was quivering now, the fur at the base of her neck standing on end on instinctual wariness. When Akira sat on the side of the bed, as close to her as Akira would dare, her eyes came up to meet his. Violet, feline eyes captured his own, and he could swear that he smelt her fear, the way that she had said that she could smell Akira’s own.

“It’s okay, angel.” Akira pressed a kiss to her forehead, and she clambered for his hand to be in her grip again. He helped her finally maneuver her trousers off, her water broken and not just leaking out of her now. He moved some pillows behind her, to which she did not protest.

Whenever he would pamper her, Krolia would analyze his actions and either accept or decline verbally. It was something she was not used to with her people, where there was always a goal to achieve, or they would embrace death. Only her friend Kolivan would praise her, give her kindness, but never something like Akira would give her. Even her firstborn was not made in the same way that this child was.

“I need to push,” she directed him. Akira knew better than stopping a mother giving birth, so he waited as Krolia adjusted herself on the blankets, ushering him in front of her to hold her steady if the need arose. He took a quick glance and bit his lip.

“Are you sure?”

Krolia nodded, placing her head on his shoulder.

“My body is different, remember?” She chided him in the way that she always had. Akira pressed his cheek against her hair, humming softly.

“Of course, angel.”

The labor’s beginning and end were not far apart in length of time, but Akira could not have prayed hard enough for it to end sooner. Krolia had begun to push in time with the contractions, and blood had trickled out. It had never bothered Akira before, but calving the cows and helping with the birth of his own child were completely different things. Krolia had held a grip on his shoulder with one hand, steadying herself with the other, and her growing sounds of discomfort let Akira know how the labor progressed.

About ten minutes in, fifteen since they had both woken up, Krolia let out a groan, the loudest she’d been this morning. Akira heard a wet noise, prompting him to look as Krolia continued to push and relax as her body dictated she do.

“Almost there, angel.”

“Please,” he heard her whisper. “Please live.”

His heart broke at the plea, and he kept careful watch as their child’s head was soon joined by their shoulders. A last push, weaker than the rest, and their baby’s body landed on the little nest of towels.

The Earth was quiet, the air suffocating, as Krolia let her tears soak into Akira’s shoulder. There was no noise. The tension settled in Akira’s stomach, nausea threatening to make its existence evidence, but he pushed it down. He reached out a shaking hand, feeling for the nest where their baby fell, silent.

The baby was warm, almost hot. Akira felt skin instead of fur, his fingers sliding over a little chest that had a little beating heart trapped inside. He pressed the baby’s breastbone, and a quiver answered him. Instinctually, Akira pressed again, and the baby began to let out a wailing mewl.

“Oh, God.” Akira’s eyes burned, and Krolia let out a laugh as her love – the father of her child – began to cry as well. She pulled away from him, her hand still holding Akira captive. Underneath her and between them, the newborn was crying, mucus covering their face. They were still connected to their mother, and Akira reached to grab the knife, severing the cord. The baby took in a deep breath, hiccoughing and reaching outwards for comfort. Krolia picked them up, holding them to her chest. She looked down at her shirt, and Akira helped her cut it off. They could always get another, but Akira would never get to see their child breastfeeding from their mother for the first time ever again. Krolia looked to the afterbirth that fell after the child.

Akira held up the blanket that held the afterbirth, offering it to her. She grabbed it, tearing into the flesh that she had created, just as her child drank from her breast. Akira was not bothered, but he did get the warm towels ready for when she had finished. With the warm towels and water, and Krolia’s hunger sated in a way that it had not been for months, Akira began to clean them both. The baby was swaddled in a clean blanket when he was done eating and bathed.

Krolia got up from the bed, naked, as Akira tended to the child. He looked over them, and he was proud to say that he now had a son. He looked like a typical human child, if somewhat small, but Akira would have loved him even if he was more similar to his mother. His son was yawning, their eyes still closed, before settling into a peaceful dozing. Akira pressed a kiss to his son’s forehead, and he could smell himself and Krolia on him.

“A boy.” Akira looked to Krolia, who wore a new set of shirt and trousers. It was as though she didn’t give birth at all, only the barest sheen of sweat on her the evidence of her exerting herself at all.

“You did a good job,” Akira told her, not knowing any words that could amount to the pride and fear that he held towards his love. Krolia pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You were a good help.”

The room was now pink with the dawn coming, and the birds outside were beginning to sing.

“Should we show him the world outside of me?” Krolia took their son from Akira’s arms, and they went outside, standing and facing the sun as it warmed the Earth.

The animals in the fenced-in space didn’t seem to care about their caretakers bringing someone new with them. One cow did come close as they passed the fence, Krolia coming close to her. The cow’s calf wandered over to her mother, drinking from her just as their half-Galra son had done from his mother just a short while ago. Akira pet the cow’s head, hoping that they could use the extra milk in the days ahead.

“I thought of a name.”

Krolia was looking down at their son in her arms, and Akira placed a hand on her shoulder.

“What was it?”

“Yorak.”

Akira held himself back from any comment before he unwittingly offended her.

“What does it mean?”

Krolia looked up at him, her violet eyes bright and longing.

“‘Forest’. We’ve been in the desert for the Blue Lion. I will always be here, but I want our son to see forests. I want you to take him to see what’s left of your Amazon and the Everglades, not just see the pictures that you’ve shown me.”

Akira smiled at that.

“There’s a name that means forest, here on Earth.”

“Really? What is it?”

“Keith.”

Krolia looked down at their son, dragging the knuckles on his cheek.

“‘Keith’… I like that.”

* * *

Keith’s eyes were a duller purple than Krolia’s, but they were curious and eager. His eyes would grow brighter when he was crying, a defense mechanism the Galra had during their infancy and youth, a way for their parents to find them in the dark. He was like a human baby in almost every other way, save of some occasions.

Keith hadn’t opened his eyes until he was ten days old, much like a kitten. His cries sounded more like those of a cat as well. He was able to hold his head up when he was three weeks old, but he still couldn’t crawl. When Krolia switched to the bottle to feed him with, Keith would pretend to hold the bottle, but he couldn’t yet hold it. When he would sleep, or was content to just lie down, Keith would purr so softly, it was almost inaudible. These were moments that Akira would remember for a long time.

Krolia insisted on staying in the house, the farm, and the desert, close to the Blue Lion and staying away from other people, other humans. She held her tongue on any comment regarding Keith’s contact with humanity, as Akira had expressed his concern on their son seeing a medical professional, in case there was something that Krolia couldn’t detect and Akira wouldn’t know with his untrained eyes. She had simply nodded

At the age of two months, Keith had seen a pediatrician that lived about forty-five minutes away. He and Akira had once been rather close, driving to bars and shooting the breeze until Akira moved out to the desert with his animals. The doctor, Woong, had asked about Keith’s mother, wondering when Akira had even seen another person, let alone gotten together with any woman to have a baby, and Akira had had to say that his woman had gone to work in another part of the county during the night.

“Is he on formula then?” Woong smiled, letting Keith grab his fingers and pulled up, testing the baby’s strength.

“Breastmilk and formula both, but still on the bottle.”

“A hungry boy, then. He’s a good weight, and his reflexes are a little bit ahead for babies his age.” Holding him up, the doctor handed him over to Akira, just to hold. Unzipping Keith’s onesie, a stethoscope was held up. Akira shivered on instinct, remembering how many times a cold disc of metal would be placed on his chest.

Woong laughed.

“Well, if you shiver, your son should too, Akira. That’s what we’re hoping for.”

“This another test?”

“I’m gonna listen to his chest, but if he startles, that’s another good reflex.”

Keith did squirm in his father’s hold, and he let out a cat-like cry when the stethoscope touched his skin, something that Akira was very used to. Woong, however, had a stern expression, unreadable as he pulled the device away.

“Akira, have you noticed anything unusual in Keith?”

Akira hoped his poker face hadn’t lost its power in the last few years as he shook his head.

“Has he had any problems feeding or does he drool a lot? Is he really aggressive or irritable?”

“No, I haven’t noticed any of that.” Akira looked down to Keith, whose cries had quieted down. He made sure to keep his hand behind his son’s neck, in case Keith holding his head up wasn’t quite normal.

“Well,” Woong began, rubbing the back of his head. “Your boy is beautiful, and I’m kind of jealous I didn’t snag myself a girl like yours. What I’m worried about is called ‘cri du chat’ or a cat cry. I’m sure you can tell why.”

Akira nodded, his heart starting to race. Of all things that could set someone off, it had to be his son’s crying.

“What does that mean? Is Keith sick? Does he need a lot of test or scans or-”

“Calm down, son,” Woong said with a smile. “If you haven’t noticed anything else, I’ll write down a list of symptoms and signs to watch out for. Usually, kids have skin tags, flat noses, feeding issues, and other things that parents can pick out. I wouldn’t have even thought of it until I heard Keith cry. I don’t want your lives to go to Hell in a handbasket because of the one trait that he seems to have. Some kids have cri du chat and they’re completely fine. With today’s medicine, we can fix a lot of those issues.”

“Thank God.” Akira rubbed Keith’s back as Woong warmed up his stethoscope before daring to place it on Keith’s chest again. Keith only squirmed, occasionally trying to grab at the tool clumsily. As the testing finished, Akira made a mental note to come as sparingly as possible and to learn everything he could to take care of Keith at home until they could be around people safely.

Despite knowing him, Akira didn’t know if he could trust Woong.

* * *

When Akira arrived home that afternoon, he looked knowingly to Krolia, whose ears flickered lightly at the sound of his footsteps. Keith babbled, reaching for his mother.

“Is he healthy?” she asked softly.

“He’s safe. He will be safe. I’ve made sure of that.”

Krolia kissed him sweetly at that, her eyes mournful. Akira was thankful for that.

* * *

When Krolia would go out to train and keep her body strong, Akira would tend to the chickens and goat, and Keith would be in his crib, reaching for anything in his vicinity. After that short time, he’d carry his son in a pouch on his chest, keeping him close and talking to him. Krolia would take her time with animals as well, talking to them in hushed whispers that Akira admired and that the livestock appreciated. They were never frightened of her, not even when she would come back with a coyote’s body between her jaws.

When Krolia was home, she would keep Keith on her chest as well, telling him things in her native Galra tongue. When Keith was six months old, Akira tried to write some of those stories down the best that he could. He couldn’t remember the writing system or the full words, but he wrote them down in English, careful to learn how to write names in Galran as well.

Akira did learn how to write Yorak, for his son’s sake.

“Who’s Kolivan? You’ve told me about him before.”

Krolia’s eyes changed, something sad flickering in her gaze.

“He was the one who showed me that I wasn’t alone. I knew that my daughter, a halfling, would not be judged fairly. Bloodlines hold true in the Galra Empire. The woman that I had had her with had been killed for having a child with me, a pure Galra of a special bloodline. Kolivan got my child to a family that didn’t have any heirs for her own safety.”

“What is your bloodline, exactly?” Akira wrote down Kolivan’s name again with the symbols that Krolia had taught him. She pressed Keith closer to her as he suckled on his bottle.

“The Galra are the people left after many blood feuds took over planet Daibazaal. My ancestors came from a populous tribe adopted by the Galra for quick learning ability and high sensitivity to… I guess you could call it nature and the natural world. We were not that different in body or ideology, but we have eyes like most other species and our fur is less prominent. Those that were highly trained in their sensitivity became Druids, who were married into high-ranking Galra families.”

“Druids... Like people that do rituals, summon spirits?”

Krolia stared at him, amused.

“Your planet is so strange. I forget that your people have dismissed magic.”

Akira felt his face flush, trying to think of something to say before countering with, “Well, I’m more open to the idea, since I first saw you.”

Krolia moved to lean against his shoulder, purring.

“You say the strangest things.”

“So Keith will be like that, like you?”

“He may very well be. When I take him to the Blue Lion, he responds as though he’s playing with one of the rabbits from the hutch. Very calm, never afraid.” Krolia shifted against the headboard, her purr growing steadier. Akira heard Keith purring softly as well.

‘And she still wonders why I compare them both to cats…’

“So Kolivan helped you out.”

“He trained me since I decided to fight the Empire. He helped me get into the scouting groups…” She turned her head and pressed her lips against his cheek, paying no mind to the stubble that he had not shaved yet. “I hope I get to tell Keith more about the Blades as he gets older. They’d be his people.”

Akira pet her hair, humming. He’d often wondered how far the Blades had removed themselves from their culture, their people. Perhaps they believed so much in their ancestry that they couldn’t accept how the Empire had ruined their name. Apparently, Emperor Zarkon had been a hero for their galaxy at one point, but something had changed, and that monster had been conquering worlds for 10,000 years.

“You think we’ll meet them one day?”

“The Blades?” she asked. Her voice was soft, almost sleepy. “Maybe, if another scout comes this way, but I won’t ever wish for that.”

“Why not?”

Keith wriggled in her grip. His suckling paused for just a moment as he adjusted himself. Krolia moved her arms just slightly, and Keith settled down to drink from his bottle again.

“He deserves it, doesn’t he?” Akira prodded. “Don’t you think that?”

Krolia sighed. They had talked about this before. After being away from people for so long, she could understand Akira’s desire to be with others, for their son to be as well. Fear filled her spirit, it’s what had kept her here. Before, she had fought for freedom and duty, to defy the Galra Empire; now, it was for her son to never experience what she had witnessed, for the same reason that she had given up her daughter.

How was she doing now?

“Look.”

Krolia opened her eyes, and she saw a glow that she had secretly hoped that she would never see again.

“Someone is here.”

“A Blade?”

“... It reacts to any Galra.”

* * *

“Akira!”

Krolia called out the name that had been her new life until Keith had been born. She saw him in the pit where one of the Galra Fighter ships had landed. As she ran, she chanted old mantras to herself, ones that she learned to never say out loud. Prayers to a long-forgotten goddess came out from her lips in the softest of breaths.

When she reached him, Krolia wrinkled her nose at the scent of blood, acrid in the air and turning her stomach. Blood was pooling underneath him, the blast going through his shoulder. She ripped at his shirt, tearing it into what she could use as bandages. As she moved his shirt, Akira mumbled something incoherent.

“...lia?”

“Stay quiet, shh…” Krolia began to pack the wound, the entry point on the back of his shoulder, ignoring his groans.

“Did it work?” Akira tried to move, and Krolia helped him turn to sit up. Blood poured outward, and Krolia quickly stuffed the hole with bandages. “Ah, fuck!”

“You need help.”

“Just… take me home.”

Krolia grabbed his face between her hands. He looked paler than he normally was, and the injury only grew more grave as time passed. If she had not let him come, perhaps this could have been prevented. If she had gone to the Blades and stopped other Scouts from coming this way-

“I’m taking you to the city, you and Keith.”

Akira stared at her, confused.

“I can’t leave you two here. In pain or fear, I can’t have either of you pay for my choices.” Krolia moved and soon Akira was cradled in her arms, his soft breath against her neck as she ran to the truck that had gotten them here.

* * *

Akira looked down at his infant son. Keith was sleeping as Krolia drove them into town, planning on leaving them. His vision was somewhat hazy, but Akira could still make out the distress on his love’s face.

“I thought you’d seen enough war…”

“If they found the Blue Lion once, they’ll find it again.” Krolia’s voice was stern, even, as they pulled up behind the hospital. The red in her Galra uniform was bright against the darkness of dusk, hardly hidden by the black clothes that she had chosen to hide some of the glow.

The engine stopped, Krolia lying her head on the steering wheel. Looking to her and down at their son, Akira almost laughed at the casual nature of their arrival. His woman, his son, and he were all in the car, sadly not enjoying a Sunday drive, but at least they were in town.

“This is the best way I can keep you both safe.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to report back to the Blades, and I’ll stop the Galra from the inside.” For the first time since Keith was born, he saw her shoulders shake as she apologized to him. He’d never seen tears from her eyes, but Akira would not be surprised or pleased to finally see them.

Akira reached out his left hand, his right shoulder still bleeding but managing to hold Keith well with his hurt limb. Krolia welcomed the touch and laced their fingers together, though only briefly.

“I’ll never forget you.”

Akira was so tired, he didn’t remember who had said that as black began to creep into his vision. The alarm of his truck began to blare loudly, and Keith wailed out his little cat cry. Something was pressed into his lap, between him and Keith.

“Krolia,” he asked the air, and she graciously answered him.

“This is for Keith. He might need it someday.”

There, Akira was found by medical staff, unconscious as his boy was crying in his lap with a knife close by. Something like claw marks in the steering wheel and on the inside of the driver’s door, which had been left ajar.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira tries to cope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I was asked, and I think I have gotten myself in deep over my head now.

As he received his pain and heart medication, Akira held his son close, humming gently. Akira made sure to have his son against his body, their skin touching. Keith always seemed so calm when they would hold each other like this. He hummed, and Keith purred in response. The vibrations in his chest must have reminded Keith of his mother.

Keith’s purring reminded Akira of home.

“Mr. Kogane.”

Akira looked up to the nurse that he had forgotten was in the room. She looked at him with something like pity, Akira’s stomach twisting at the sight.

“Yes, miss?”

“Is there anything that you need? Do you need anything for your son? Does he need any formula?” 

Akira shook his head, trying to keep his eyes open. The nurse smiled at him, the pity definitely there.

“I can get you an attachment for your bed, so that your son can lay in his own space but still next to you. That way, you can let your arm rest.” The pain in his new shoulder, wrapped in dressing and a sling, pulled at Akira to alleviate the weight of his son in his arm. Akira gave in, the nurse leaving to get the bed attachment.

Akira closed his eyes, sighing. He laid Keith down on his lap, trying to ignore the pain. The surgery had been hastened due to the amount of blood that he had lost, Keith taken to the pediatric ward for assessment and care. Only hours later, Akira had refused to let his son be away from him. One pediatric nurse had volunteered to stay close until Akira had awoken fully, unsure of a man freshly out from anesthesia would be so safe when caring for his own child.

“Here we go, Mr. Kogane.” The pediatric nurse and his own nurse had brought back an attachable bassinet for Keith. Akira watched carefully as they set it up. He allowed them to help him place Keith in its hold.

“He’ll be safe in here, Akira,” the pediatric nurse chided, Akira recalling his own late mother in her tone. “There is also a baby monitor that we’re placing in the bassinet, and one of the ‘Peds’ nurses will be available to help in case Keith needs something.”

“Thank you, kindly.” Akira adjusted himself in the bed, using his left hand to move his pillows. His nurse helped him get comfortable. The sun was shining through the blinds, but he felt so tired.

‘And my chest hurts.’

“Mr. Kogane… Do you want me to call somebody? Anybody?”

Akira shook his head.

“I don’t have anyone to call.”

“What about Keith’s mother?”

“She’s gone.”

Akira fell asleep as she apologized. He cursed himself in the morning, finally remembering a name that he could call.

* * *

“I’m telling you, he’s fine. I would know what’s happening to my own son!”

Akira and Keith were getting Keith was crying as his newest nurse, a young person by the name of Taylor, changed his diaper. His little cat cry had worried the nurse, who had addressed the matter before setting about to the task.

“He’s been seen by a pediatrician before?”

“Yes, and he was cleared.” The nurse frowned at Akira’s response. Keith was placed in another onesie, his cries quieting down to little mewls that signalled to Akira of tiredness. “He needs to be laid down. In the car carrier, if you could help me.”

Taylor scrutinized the baby and father both before laying the whimpering child down into the carrier. Akira felt certain of Keith; nothing in Taylor’s assessment of his son had revealed anything abnormal about Keith at all.

“If anything comes up, let us know, okay?” Taylor grabbed the discharge paperwork and wrote down a phone number and address.

“Of course.” Akira took the paperwork, putting it in the satchel he got as a donation. He slung the bag over his head, mindful of his still tender shoulder. He had always been left-handed, but the loss of one hand was particularly annoying.

“Yo, Kogane.” Akira turned to the voice, seeing an old friend in the doorway. They had both moved from Kyoto to study machinery for the Garrison, but Hirito, ever the excelling upperclassman, had been been the only person close to family that he had in this country.

Only for a moment in his life, there had been only Krolia.

“Shirogane,” he greeted.

Hirito came into the room, greeting the nurse and dismissing them politely by taking Keith’s carrier.

“I’ll walk with them,” he offered. Taylor agreed, and they were followed to the nurse’s station, where Akira signed out with physician’s authority.

* * *

“Your son is beautiful, Kogane.” Akira smiled at the small talk as they piled into the car. It had been more than he had had the joy of experiencing in months, and his two weeks in the hospital and rehab had not improved on that. Keith seemed to take a liking to Hirito, babbling at him warmly.

“Thank you. How’s your boy, Takashi?”

“He’s a good boy, a good son. He’s happy.” Hirito turned on the engine. “He is turning six years old soon. He’s already started at the Japanese academy.”

Akira nodded. Hirito had always been fond of how he was raised, but the childhood of many people would seem nostalgic when they were gone from it for so long. They’d left University about eight years ago, and Kyoto was a far away place. With a father such as Hirito, Takashi would grow to be a good man and live a happy life.

As they began their drive towards the Shirogane household, one not too far from the Garrison itself, Hirito began to ask questions.

“Where is Keith’s mother?”

“... Gone.” Hirito chuckled at that.

“What woman would leave you, especially with such a beautiful child? I don’t think you’re such a bad guy.”

Akira tensed his right arm, letting the pain settle into his bones and give him something physical to hide.

“She had something to do.”

“More important than you two? It’s nothing dangerous, is it?”

“... She did it to keep us safe.”

“Is someone after you?”

“They left me like this. She drove me and Keith to the hospital and led them away.”

Hirito let the two of them sit in silence, Keith’s babbling providing sound for them to focus on. As they pulled into the driveway, Hirito put the car into “park” and turned off the engine.

“She sounds like a good woman.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takashi meets Akira and Keith, and now he doesn't want to let go of them.
> 
> He loves them.

Takashi loved looking at Keith. His eyes were purple and so pretty. He was also tiny, something that always made Takashi want to hug him.

“Just until I can take this sling off. I don’t want to intrude on you any longer than I have to.”

“Kogane- _ san _ , I know that you can take care of yourself and your son,” Takashi heard. Leaving Keith for a moment, he walked over to the kitchen and saw his mother sitting with Keith’s father at the table. His mother had made them both some tea. Takashi’s father had already left for work, leaving his mother to do the convincing for the Kogane family to stay at the Shirogane household.

“Meg,” Keith’s father begged. “I can’t. I can’t raise Keith here… He-”

“I’m sorry for presuming,” Megumi interrupted, “but Keith’s mother is gone. You are hurt, and you can’t work. Even after physical therapy, you will have to take it easy. With your job, you can’t do that.”

“What am I supposed to do, Meg?”

“Stay here until you have everything you need to take care of Keith and yourself. I do much of my work from home, and Takashi is in school now, so I can help you both with whatever you need.”

Takashi smiled at that, going back to Keith, who was staring up at him again and making that weird noise. It sounded like Keith was humming. He touched Keith’s cheek. Takashi pulled his hand away when Keith let out a mewl. He tried to see if the baby would cry, but he didn’t. Keith just stared up at him again, kicking the air while he lay on his back.

“Are you going to crawl soon, Keith?”

The baby just stared up at him, as though that were an annoying question. At that, Keith rolled onto his belly. He reached for Takashi, who came closer.

“Go, Keith!” Takashi cheered, watching as Keith pulled himself up, his little feet stepping on Takashi’s toes. The boy didn’t care; Keith was standing up!

He called for his mother and Keith’s father, holding onto Keith in a hug when the baby started to wobble.

“Takashi?”

“Mother, Mr. Kogane, Keith pulled himself up on me!”

His mother looked so proud. Keith’s dad sort of smiled, but it looked like he was sad. Keith reached for his dad and he managed to toddle over a few steps before he fell forward. Takashi’s mother caught him before he hurt himself.

“How old is he now, Kogane- _ san _ ?”

“About eight months.”

“Well,” Takashi’s mother said, beaming, “he’s definitely a precocious child.”

“Is that… normal for someone his age?”

“I started walking when I was nine months!” Takashi said proudly. “I couldn’t walk too much, but when I was one, I was walking really good!

“Keith, are you going to walk soon, too?” he asked the baby, who only mewled softly in response. His eyes were already starting to close, like he needed a nap.

“Takashi, go finish your homework. Kogane- _ san _ , I think both you and Keith need to sleep in a proper bed.” Takashi nodded and saw Keith’s father nod too. Takashi knew that voice well; when his mother used that tone, there was no fighting it at all. It wouldn’t be too much work anyway; with all of his worksheets done, Takashi just had to practice his spelling and he’d be able to play with Keith again before lunch and dinner.

* * *

Over the next few months, Takashi found that he loved having more people in the house. Takashi loved watching Keith’s father work. With his left hand, Kogane would sketch out design after design. They were mostly jets and fighters. Takashi loved the little transport pods most, or at least, that’s what he thought they were. They looked like diamonds that had been stretched out, and all of their sides were curved inwards. When Kogane added color to the pictures with his right hand, Takashi admired the dark grey, black, and bright red of the design. The large compartment in the front was covered by a red window, something that Takashi already knew would prevent infrared radiation from the Sun and other stars.

“Mr. Kogane?”

“Yes, Takashi?” Kogane turned to Takashi, his eyes warm but sad.

“Did you make this yourself?”

“I… I saw something like this once. This design is for Keith.” Kogane seemed like he was wanting for something as he continued, “Maybe he’ll fly it someday.”

“I’ll teach him if you can’t!”

“You will, buddy?” Kogane chuckled.

Takashi nodded excitedly, going on about “I’m going to be the best pilot ever! I’m going to train at the Garrison and fly to Mars and even farther than that!”

Kogane ruffled his hair, something that Takashi would remember for years to come…

… even if he wouldn’t remember who it was that came to his home.


	4. Chapter 4

When Keith would reach his first birthday, Akira decided that they would leave the Shirogane household. Takashi was bonded to Keith, and Keith would always look for him when anyone said the boy's name. However much his son loved Takashi, Akira thought, Keith's safety and the Blue Lion mattered more. He and Krolia had almost died for those two reasons, and he would not let his child grow up an orphan or under the lens of somebody's voyeuristic microscope.

“Mama?” Keith started asking at the age of ten months. He rarely spoke or tried to speak, only ever called out to people, but once he learned the word for his mother, observing Takashi and Megumi with critical eyes and ears, he asked Akira when they would go to sleep at night. The night before Keith’s birthday, Akira found it hard to hold back his tears.

“Someday, buddy. Not now.”

“Mama?” Keith cooed out, pressing his face into his father’s chest. It was a shirt that Krolia had worn one, large and looser around her body that it was on Akira’s own. The scent was still there, somehow. Krolia had told him that anything that she had worn or had rubbed her scent into, washing it had never taken out her scent. Keith would always smell her, and he would be comforted by it.

Megumi had asked for the cloths that Krolia had saved up for Keith, for a little nest that he slept in every night. Akira had been hesitant, but she had only ever been good to them, so he stayed with the shirt.

They had a small party the next day, with a cake that Takashi had decorated with stars and little candy jets. Keith had enjoyed the taste of icing, pure sugar and water that had his baby giggling at its sweetness and pastel colors.

“Swee!” Keith called it, licking at more of the chocolate icing from his spoon. Megumi had a special batch prepared with only certain ingredients that Akira and Krolia had determined long ago would be safe for Keith to ingest. Chocolate, however, was something that Keith had ingested accidentally and had been fine with; Krolia had actually confessed her envy and excitement that their son could enjoy the snack. The one time she had tried, she had vomited for the whole afternoon.

Takashi and Hirito had gotten Keith baby toys as a surprise, though they did ask Akira for his input. They were ones that were large but for older children, harder to break and something that Keith enjoyed, as he could now bite them over and over without destroying them with his sharp baby teeth.

Megumi had gotten Keith some new clothes, and she had gathered some of the cloths that Akira always wrapped Keith in when he would set the baby to sleep. Out of them, she had made a quilted blanket. She had cut out the shapes to make a man, a woman, and a little boy, all together, and sewed them onto a pale blue fabric, the rest of the cloths becoming batting to make the blanket soft and warm. When Akira first saw it, after Keith had joyfully ripped apart the paper and Akira had untaped the box, he felt his eyes burn with tears. Keith immediately rubbed his face into the blanket, babbling and showing Takashi his blanket and “mama”.

“Thank you, Meg.”

“Of course.” Megumi hugged Akira, something he hadn’t welcomed from anyone but Takashi and his own son for the last several months. He embraced her in return, hiding his face in her shoulder. She rubbed circles on his shoulder, letting him cry. “I’m sure that Keith’s mother is missing you both, too.”

‘I hope so,’ he wished, because Keith couldn’t just yet.

* * *

“I’ll miss you!” Takashi cried out into Akira’s trouser leg. Akira smiled down at him and ruffled his hair. Keith babbled the sound that he made for Takashi, not yet intelligible.

“You be good to your parents, Takashi.” 

“Yes, sir.”

“So soon, my friend?”

“Hirito, I’ve been free-loading off of y’all for four months. Aren’t you sick of me by now?” Akira laughed. Hirito hugged Akira briskly, pulling Takashi away as Akira let his arm release Hirito, his right arm firmly holding onto Keith.

“My friend, we will have to stay close. There’s no sense ignoring the years we’ve known each other. Distance never stopped us before.”

Akira couldn’t say if he didn’t want to risk this isolation for his family or for the Universe. He couldn’t tell which one was more important. As he juggled Keith in his arms, however, Akira knew that anything would be worth Keith’s future.


	5. Chapter 5

When he saw a car coming towards their home, Akira hurried inside. He spotted Keith playing with one of the rabbits, a black one with several white patches on the doe’s back. He carried the two of them over to where they had Keith’s play area set up, right next to the rabbit hutch. Keith looked up at him with wide eyes, the toddler muttering to the rabbit about being moved.

“Pa?”

“Just stay here, buddy.”

Keith nodded. He held out the little doe gently, the creature twitching her nose in apprehension. She licked shyly at Akira’s finger. Surely she smelt his anxiety as Akira placed her back in the hutch.

As he stepped outside, Akira saw the car approaching. It stopped and the driver turned off its engine. The driver stepped out, and Akira wasn’t too sure what to think.

“Woong?”

“Hey, Akira!” the pediatrician greeted him. He had a bag in his hand, one that Akira likened to old films about doctors who would make house calls.

“How are you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. I was just wondering if we could catch up. I was also wondering how your son was doing. I didn’t think that you’d taken him to a doctor since I saw you two last.” Woong traded hands to grab his bag, holding out his right hand to Akira. Akira returned the gesture, giving a firm handshake.

“We had to go to the hospital when he was around eight months old. He’s two now.”

“Has he had any vaccinations? I know you don’t encounter too many things out here in the desert, but you can’t be too careful.” 

“Um… He had his tetanus shot, his MMR… the TB. I don’t remember the rest. I have a record of it somewhere.”

“Is it okay if I check Keith over? Just wanna make sure that desert life hasn’t been too hard on the little guy.” Woong chuckled. “He might have your genes, Akira, but a baby’s a baby.”

Akira nodded and he went inside, showing Woong where he could sit. He could feel that Woong was getting ready, gathering his tools to check Keith. He went over to the play area, where Keith had fallen asleep, the doe rabbit in the hutch next to him, asleep as well. Gently humming to him, Akira lifted up his son, Keith stirred slightly but settling back to sleep against his father’s chest.

“Sleepy little guy,” Woong commented. “Does he sleep a lot?”

“He was busy playing earlier.”

“Playing with? Does he play with your animals at all?”

“Just the rabbits, and I check all of their food myself. He’s never with them too long.”

“Are they vaccinated?”

“Yes.”

“Good, good.” Woong, having warmed his stethoscope, took a listen to Keith’s lungs, felt his spine and above his hips. With a readjustment of his grip, Akira watched as Woong listened to Keith’s heart and belly. Woong nodded after a few minutes.

“Everything is looking good.” Woong smiled. He pressed onto Keith’s belly, feeling the baby’s abdomen. Keith wiggled against Akira, struggling to stay asleep. Akira rubbed at his back gently, just hoping that Woong would leave sooner rather than later.

“How ‘bout you lay him down and we can chat for a bit?”

Akira nodded and hurried to lay Keith down. Once Keith was laid down, Akira hurried back to where Woong was waiting, searching in his cabinet for some tall glasses.

“Iced tea okay?”

“Of course.”

Akira reached into the refrigerator, pulling out the pitcher that he kept full, though it was usually for himself. Keith didn’t drink it usually; that, and the fruit juice that Akira would make had more nutrients for him anyway. He had already learned while at the Shirogane home that Keith was lactose-intolerant, so they were managing his health well now.

“Thank you kindly,” Woong said, taking his glass and drinking a third of the glass straight away. “I know it’s mighty beautiful out here, Akira, but if I were you, with my baby, I’d be fixing to move back toward the city. Are you two staying hydrated?”

“Yes, we are…” Akira took a slow drink from his tea, staying by the refrigerator. The hair on the back of his neck was still standing up, and his heart was slow but pounding in his chest. He could  _ hear _ his heartbeat.

“And how is your wife doing?”

“... We never got married,” Akira muttered, clear but soft. “She… She had some work to do, so she left.”

“I thought she was already working.”

“It’s something confidential, Woong.”

Woong’s eyes went wide, and he spoke almost breathless, “Oh, wow… I’ll pray that she can return to you soon. I’ll pray that she’s safe.”

“Thank you.”

They started meandering in their dialogue. Akira learned about things in the city since he had left with Keith. There’d been a tear-down of an old hardware store that Akira used to frequent often. The son of the late owner couldn’t afford the maintenance, so he’d sold it to a contractor who tore it down a week later. Woong moved to a different medical building, one with more equipment to check his patients. The Garrison was starting a new program to send possible terraforming teams to Mars, starting with sending plants in special capsules to see if a capsule could maintain a living organism safe during entry. If that succeeded, the next step would be to return the plants - intact - to Earth.

“Maybe in fifteen years, they could send a human there.”

Akira nodded, smiling to himself. He had always loved planes and other machines. He knew that he wouldn’t be a pilot; it hadn’t been for him, feeling so much adrenaline in his system. When he had gone up to fix a satellite, however, several years before he had gone to live in the desert, Akira fell in love with every star and the darkness that surrounded all of them. Coming back down to Earth had ruined him, and soon, he found himself moving away from people, into the desert where he could lovingly gaze at each star every night. Krolia only made him fall in love more, because somewhere in those stars, she was fighting for Akira and Keith both.

“You’re daydreaming, Akira,” Woong chuckled, and Akira let out a laugh, lighter in his lungs than he remembered in the last few days.

“Well, I’ll always love what I started doing so long ago, I guess.”

Woong left about half an hour later, Akira waving good-bye and hoping that, perhaps, this was okay.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith is growing up, and Akira tries to manage as he gathers any information on Keith growing up part-Galra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fight me.
> 
> Edit: 11/6/18 - My depression got the better of me for a while. I'm back on board :)  
> Edit 2: 11/11/2018 - Happy Armistice Day! Life decided to slap me in the back of the head and throw me down into doing overtime. Money is necessary, sadly. However, family time is fun. My sibling just turned 17, so now I'm helping them with university preparations.
> 
> I already have a series planned out from this idea. The next part will be Keith's adolescence and, following that, a story will be about our favorite Cuban Paladin :)
> 
> Then the main plot :P

If Akira had thought life would be easy now that Keith could speak more, he was fooling himself. Keith only talked when he found it necessary, a trait that he seemed to share with his mother. However, whenever he wanted to ask his father something, Keith would ask everything about it.

"Why is Doe named Doe?"

"A doe is a female rabbit."

"What's female?"

"Someone or something that can be a Ma."

"Like Ma and Pa?"

"Yeah."

"Buck is Pa and Doe is Ma?"

"Yep."

"Doe carries babies. Did Ma carry me?"

"Yep, in her belly."

"Can I carry babies?"

At that, Akira grabbed a book for them to read, effectively distracting Keith with the stories of Jason, Achilles, and Ariadne. Akira would make up songs about the Argonauts, recalling songs of the Underworld and odysseys from long ago written dramas.

Today, Keith asked that question, and Akira thought to what Krolia had told him of Keith's possible development. Krolia had sired a child with a "female" at one point, and Akira had had Krolia inside of him at one point; 'a night to remember' he thought to himself, remembering fondness and pleasure and kisses to his face. Akira had asked Krolia about Keith, if Keith could mother a child.

'He might be able to, if his body creates a vent. It usually develops when a male kit reaches two deca-phoebs - _years_ \- old, if they are going to form one.'

When Woong had come to visit, to check Keith over, Akira hadn't thought that Woong would check under Keith's clothes. The thought had never occurred to him, and he was glad that Woong had left before anything could be discovered. When Keith had been given a bath the next day, he had been a bit restless. Akira had looked over him, and he was somewhat surprised by a small dimple just behind his genitals.

"No, Keith," Akira kindly scolded as Keith's hands began to wander downwards in curiosity. The bath had been quickly done. Keith asked what was wrong, knowing and possibly scenting his father's uneasiness. "When you're bigger, we'll talk about it."

"I'm big now."

"No, pun'kin," Akira crooned, smiling at his son who pouted up at him. "You're still a little baby."

Keith accepted the answer, humming yet still pouting. He had had a snack and a nap while Akira tried to read through more of what he had written down from Krolia's informative sessions.

It had been several months since then, and Akira was keeping an eye out for anything else that might change in his son. So far, there had been nothing, and nothing of their routine changed, save for Keith's favorite time of the day.

* * *

"Blue!"

Akira set Keith down, watching his son rush over to the Blue Lion of Voltron. Keith quickly began telling the Lion about his day, what he'd seen and heard. The Blue Lion purred in response. Akira had never seen the Blue Lion move when he would come with Krolia and Keith, but the Lion would now bend her body down, her head on the ground and resting so that Keith could pet her metallic face.

He felt safe in the cave, looking as his son would begin to draw on the stone floor with other rocks. The war that the Lion was created for, was a constant reminder of his love, his Krolia. Keith was the only other reminder, and Akira could only do his best to raise him. He loved the cave and all that was currently in it.

For a moment, Akira saw the giant being of Voltron in his mind. He chuckled. Blue and Keith were sharing their thoughts with one another. Perhaps Keith would fly the Lion one day, or maybe one of the other four would be his companion. Blue even dared to think that Keith would lead Voltron one day, the Black Lion guarding and trusting the half-Galra child more than it ever would Zarkon. Akira gently asked about the dark Emperor, and Blue provided what she knew.

When Blaytz had been her Paladin, Zarkon had been Emperor of the Galra for about 20 deca-phoebs. As a Prince Regent, he and those that would become the other Paladins of Voltron had begun their own adventures across the galaxy and the Universe around them. Starting with negotiating treaties to guarantee freedom between their peoples, the five rulers began to hunt down threats to peace and the good-will of all those around them.

When their Mother-Comet crashed into the Galra homeworld, the planet had begun to destabilize. Zarkon and his scientists, one who would later become his wife, studied the rift in reality that Mother-Comet had made. Alfor of Altea began to study Mother-Comet herself, allowing the Lions to be born as he worked with her ore. Alfor could speak with them as they formed and began to walk about, or so Black had told her younger sisters. Red and Blue were born close together, their minds linked and nurtured by their old sister. Alfor became close to Red and Blue, trusting their bond would be able to show him more of the Universe and realities about them. Yellow and Green were born last, far apart from their sisters and each other, yet they were the most curious of the Lions, and they were eager to leave Altea to explore.

Soon, Mother-Comet was no more and the Lions mourned her. With Black to lead them, the Lions grew and began to change on their own, Alfor supervising their growth. When the Galra came under attack of dark creatures from the reality rift, the Lions chose their Paladins and began to battle. As bonds between the Lions and Paladins grew, they grew to love each other and the Universe accepted the Lions of Voltron. Blue had loved Blaytz, a creature that loved indiscriminately and feared loneliness in a way that made him a light of the Paladins. Their battles felt like dances with opponents, and their minds were so close that sometimes, Blue couldn't distinguish herself from him. 

Her heart broke when the Quintessence, the energy of life and the Universe itself, corrupted Zarkon, Paladin of the Black Lion, and Honerva. Zarkon used the Lions to be drawn into the rift, and then, he began to hunt down the Lions to begin an attack on the known Universe, seeking the Quintessence of all living things. Blue was sent away to Earth, lonely and missing her sisters.

She was lonely for a long time. People had come to look upon her, but no one knew what she was, assuming her to be an ill omen rather than one kind creature.

And then Krolia and Akira had found her, and her loneliness fell away.

Akira thanked her. He assured her that he would keep her safe while Krolia kept the Galra away from inside the Empire.

Blue crooned at him, and she continued to talk with Keith, purring at him and enjoying his chuffs and purring towards her.

'Is he a normal Galra child? Do you know?'

Blue showed him images of Galra children that she had seen. They were wide-eyed, curious creatures, which Akira could definitely see in his son. They would chuff at and smell one another, comforted by the scent. They connected easily with animals, talking to them and cooing in a way that animals seemed to understand. They trilled and whistled for attention, drawn to the sound of music. They play-fought, skilled with their eyes and reflexes in a way that Akira could relate to lions or tigers. They were rather self-managed, it seemed.

'He's like them. He talks a lot now, and he's talking to Doe and the other animals when I take him near them... And when he gets older?' 

Blue's visions of adult Galra were drastically different, but Akira could connect them to the children he saw before. They were territorial, stern, and could be violent when agitated. They were excellent fighters, looking for weaknesses in war and in relationships in order to strengthen themselves and their partners. They were passionate, but much of their happiness came out as animalistic actions. They loved to lick one another, rub their cheeks together, and they still had inclinations to raw meat, even half-Galra and less.

Akira thought to the rabbits, several litters of Doe and Buck already slaughtered. Some of Doe's siblings were the first to go, and Doe (marked with a little white patch on her head) stayed for Keith's company. They soon began to outcross the rabbits, bringing Buck along and his siblings. However, they were getting low on produce, and the desert was growing more unforgiving to the small garden that Akira had already created years ago.

Blue purred, mothering Akira as she did Keith, who was now singing to the large Lion. She advised him, kindly, that he must do what he must for his child, for the one that Krolia cared for so that she abandoned any idea of peace on this far off planet. When Akira asked how the Galra were treated when the war began, Blue was hesitant. He insisted. Akira was shown experimentation, enslavement, and then a sea of darkness as Blue sent waves of condolences to him. Akira imagined a warm tongue licking up his tears, though he was the one wiping his face.

Keith toddled over to him, whimpering a question.

"I'm fine, pun'kin." Akira took a deep breath. "I just decided on something." 

* * *

"You go? How long?"

"For the next few days, pun'kin."

Keith pouted, but he nodded. He already understood how to use the microwave and how to reheat the food that Akira had made. He didn't wear diapers anymore, so that made self-care much easier on Keith.

"Don't worry about the farm animals, okay? Mr. Jerring is going to watch them okay?"

"'kay, Pa."

Akira frowned as he walked to his truck. He held Keith's last hug to him like a treasure, trying to keep that warmth against him.

* * *

Two weeks after his decision, Akira left for the day, rising at five o'clock in the morning and making his way for the fire department in town. They had an opening, and his prudent nature led him to take several fire rescue courses while he had been employed at the Garrison. Surely, he could somehow get in.

"Your application looks sound. You live out in the desert?"

"Yes, sir." The fire chief nodded, having already put Akira through the background check and contacted his references.

"Can you start today?"

"Of course." Akira smiled and the chief returned the gesture.

"I'm surprised that a man like you doesn't have a lady on his arm by now."

Akira shrugged, dismissing the thought with, "I think I might not really be a family man. Maybe if I meet the right woman one day..."

"Don't worry," the chief said, patting Akira's shoulder as they walked toward the room where Akira would gear up. "I'll find you someone."

"You don't have to hurry, chief. Not at all..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira is trying, but alien babies can only be so far advanced compared to human babies. Keith's childhood nickname was Pun'kin and no one can convince me otherwise.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith has grown, his mind almost too far ahead for Akira, but they manage...
> 
> But then, Keith isn't only his son. He's Krolia's as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: animal death :(, description of animal death :((
> 
> If you want to skip, stop at "Right by the doorstep," and continue at "Keith... Pun'kin."

Passing by his house, Akira spotted Mr. Jerring in the stable. The man gave him a wave, one that Akira returned in kind. He parked in the driveway, handing the man his money for the work yesterday and this morning.

"Mr. Kogane, you've some well-behaved animals."

"Thank you." Akira grabbed a bag from his truck. 

"My co-workers threw a barbecue. Here."

"Some vittles to last me," Mr. Jerring laughed. "Anytime you need some help, just give me a holler."

"Will do."

Mr. Jerring left. Akira waited half an hour before heading over to the shack where Keith lived.

When Akira returned to the shack after his first shift at the first department, Keith was asleep on the floor. Doe was out of the hutch, laying down next to Keith. Her little nose was twitching when he entered the shack, identifying him as friend before coming up to meet his lowered fingers in curiosity. Akira picked up the rabbit first, laying her with her comrades. The latch squeaked.

"Maybe I need to get some WD-40 on there..."

"Pa?"

"Hey there, Pun'kin." Akira closed the door for the rabbits. Keith had his eyes wide open with excitement and love, his face in shock. Perhaps 26 hours would be the limit for their separation periods, until Keith was older. He reached down for Keith, whose arms were now waving around for attention. Keith curled against his father, burying his nose against his father's neck. He was scenting his father, Akira knew, trying to figure out all of the foreign scents that Akira could have picked up.

"You okay?"

"I missed you, Pa." Keith raised his head to look at Akira in the eyes. Violet-gray eyes were looking over Akira's face, scrutinizing. "Were you near a fire?"

"I was training, and someone started a barbecue at the fire department. They made food. I brought some."

"What kind?"

"Burgers, tacos, and even some pork chops."

Keith's eyes lit up at the prospect of food, but he was positively giddy for the idea of meat. The rabbits were good, Keith knew, and he always kept one of their bones as a reminder that each of his friends was raised for feeding him and his father. It was a sacrifice of the highest calling, Keith had decided, to have one of the world's creatures killed so that someone else could live. Eating something else would mean that his friends would be around longer.

"Let's wash your hands, Pun'kin."

"Yes!"

As Keith wandered over to the sink and got onto his step stool in front of the sink, Akira took all of the food from the bag that he had been given by the fire chief. He set out two plates, laying out the  _asada_ tacos and a jalapeño on his own plate. 

By the time that Akira was done setting the plates, drinks, and napkins at their little table, Keith was still at the sink.

"Pun'kin, are you okay?"

"Pa, my hands aren't clean."

Akira came over and saw that Keith's hands were actually free of any dirt. Tiny hands were pink and almost inflamed. Akira opened his mouth to speak, reaching into the sink. Cursing, his fingers in the water immediately pulled back as it burnt his skin.

"Keith!"

He pulled Keith away from the waterspout, turning off the tap. Akira quickly went about to cooling down his son's hands. Keith whimpered as cool cloths were placed upon pink skin. Akira cooed softly to him, mother-henning him in a way that he hadn't done in months.

"Baby, why would you do that?"

Akira tutted about as he went to the refrigerator looking for - "Here they are..."

"Pa? It hurts."

"Just wait, pun'kin. We have to stop your hands from burning."

Akira cracked open two eggs, jiggling the yolks so that they stayed in the shells. Their whites fell into a bowl. Once done, Akira put the shelled yolks into the egg carton and took the towels from Keith's hands.

"Gooey." Keith wrinkled his nose at the idea of egg whites for his burns.

"I know," Akira cooed. The egg whites fully covered Keith's hands, his submerged palms at the bottom of the bowl. He let out a soft sigh, patting his hands in the egg whites and getting completely covered. Akira watched as Keith began to play with the egg whites and wondered what had just happened. Keith was a baby still; why didn't he pull away from the hot water?

"Pun'kin, wasn't the water hot?"

"But my hands weren't clean. I had to clean them!" Keith pouted up at his father, trying to convince his father that "cleanliness is close to Godliness".

Akira coddled his son, gently chided him about using only warm or cool water from now on, because babies shouldn't get burnt like that at all.

"Okay, Pa. Can we have tacos now?" Akira sighed at the matter-of-fact tone and immediate dismissal of the issue.

"Sure."

* * *

Akira continued this pattern for a few months. He managed to come home within 26 hours of his departure from home, making sure that Keith felt secure and safe at home. Keith would wave good-bye to Akira in the early morning, before the sun was properly awake with them, and the next morning, as the sun woke up his baby, Akira would be coming home to play with his son.

Keith continued to grow steadily, though his body didn't seem to catch up with his mind. His son was still rather small, Akira able to carry him with ease even as they approached Keith's third birthday. His mouth was forming words that he was picking up from books, read to him by a device that Akira had built. Sego, the device was called, was a spherical robot, fitted with vast means of memory storage and satellite access, so that Sego could evolve with Keith's wishes. It had a simple enough interface for Keith to operate.

"Did you read with Sego?"

"Yeah, I read Harry Potter yesterday and I watched the movie last night. Why did Dumbledore leave Harry with his aunt?"

"I don't think I've read Harry Potter, pun'kin."

"Can I tell you about it?"

Akira listened to the stories of magic and mythology that his son loved as he cooked. While they ate, he noticed nothing wrong about the house. Keith's dishes that he couldn't wash from yesterday were in the sink. The rabbits were in their hutch. No spills and nothing was broken. The only thing that really bothered him were the little scratches that were on Keith's hands.

"Did Doe scratch you, baby?"

Keith shook his head, looking at his hands and spilling some of his cereal back into his bowl.

"I don't remember how I got them. Doe was scratching one of the wood posts, so her nails are nice and short."

Akira nodded and drank some coffee. He looked at his log book that listed everything that they had in the shed, in this little place where he lived with Keith. They had enough rabbits to breed and to eat without having a major dip in their overall count. The garden at the main house, where the barn and animals were as well, was flourishing. He owed his neighbor a lot for the help.

"What do you want for your birthday, Keith?"

Keith pouted in thought, making a show of moving his bowl out of the way so he could prop his elbows on the table and cradle his face. He hummed some song from an old movie, one that Akira recognized as  

"Did Ma leave anything for me, Pa?"

Akira set down his mug, watching his child's wide gray-violet eyes observe him with such intensity. It was like seeing Krolia again.

"Yes. I'll give it to you on your birthday."

Keith only nodded, going back to eating his cereal quietly.

* * *

When Keith turned three years old, Akira had a cake ready, frosted with chocolate flavored topping. It was a little cake, one that was perfect for the two of them. He also stopped on the way back home to buy some lactose-free ice cream.

He had had to be away for longer than planned. 24 hours had turned into 72, and even though Keith was advanced for his age, in thought and instinct, he knew his son couldn't cook well for himself. He'd seen his son eat raw eggs when hungry and insatiable before, using his little fang-incisors to chip through the shell and suck out the yolk and white. Keith had cried in apology that he was hungry and gave his father the shells.

Akira had suffered some burns during a house fire. To make sure that he was suffering burns from smoke inhalation, Akira had stayed in the hospital for almost two whole days - 40 hours. After leaving, he stayed at the firehouse, making sure that he would be rested enough to drive back to his house and his son's home.

Guilt-ridden, Akira recalled the information from his logbook about what he had left for Keith in terms of meals. He hadn't be able to leave enough food for the other two days. There were some leftovers, but most of those required re-frying or combining them in a way that would be too complicated for Keith.

From the fence around the cattle, Mr. Jerring waved to Akira, waiting for him to park before approaching the truck.

"Mr. Jerring, how are you?"

"I'm doing well, Akira. I just wanted to let you know, some mountain lions are hanging out around here." Akira blinked in surprise. Usually the mountain lions stayed away from his land. He had enough traps scattered about that they'd leave his cattle and horse alone.

"Just be careful, Akira."

"I will, Samson."

Again, Akira waited half an hour before venturing towards the shack. When he arrived, Akira felt his stomach turn in discomfort. Keith was curled right by the door, holding onto Doe. There was something staining the floor, a dark maroon color that impregnated the floorboards.

"Pun'kin?" he called. Keith didn't stir. Akira could smell something in the air, the scent flooding his nose and making him light headed as he got down lower to pick up Keith.

Red was all over Keith's little blue tunic. His tights were soaked and sticky. It was all cold, and the red was closer to a brown. Doe's nose was twitching, as though waiting for Akira to explain everything to her, for Keith to wake up so that they could play, or even for the chance to run away.

"Keith!" The toddler opened up his eyes and yawned, jostled into wakefulness. Akira felt his heart stop as Keith sleepily opened his eyes and lit up when they focused on Akira.

"Pa!"

There was the scent of blood on his son's face, all over his cheeks. His gums were more red than normal, blood painted over them. Akira was frozen as his son embraced him, the blood seeping into Akira's shirt. The world was silent and sweeping out from underneath him. He maneuvered back to sit with his back against the door, the sturdiness of metal his only support. After several minutes of just holding his son, he could process what the ringing in his ears was. Keith was crying, sobbing, about something that Akira couldn't ever deny knowing.

"I was so hungry, Pa! I didn't want to, not really! Pa!"

Right by the doorstop, behind the door that Akira had just opened and walked by, there was a mutilated rabbit. Holding onto Keith, Akira moved to the dead rabbit. Its eyes were bleeding - had bled, with one cornea crushed . There were puncture wounds on its back, Keith most likely grabbing it and restraining it by its flanks. Its neck flopped to the side, too far for life. Blood spilled out, decorating the floor with spatters and spray. He saw hand prints, so much like his baby's hand, in the mess. Moving to the other side, using a free hand to roll the creature over, Akira felt acid burn his throat as he had a better time naming the organs that the creature had left more easily than the organs that it had lost. Maggots managed to already make their homes in the crevices that were now available, burrowing into the spaces left by eaten viscera. Broken bones were not spared, for if they had any bone marrow left in them, the maggots were spilling out of them as soon as Akira touched the corpse.

He was only glad, in a sick notion, that Keith had eaten most everything - save the hide - and the maggots were hardly numerous enough to warrant concern of infestation.

"Keith... Pun'kin."

"I was so hungry, Pa..." Keith warbled. Akira could feel his son quivering against him, and he held him tight.

He should have expected something like this. Krolia would come home with a coyote's body in her jaws, her eyes fiery and fierce as her body ran on the instinct to survive. He remember her carving the body of the wild dog open with her luxite blade, digging her claws into its muscles to shape facsimiles of beef cutlets and ribeyes. Snakes and other creatures were turned into sausages that were hardly cooked, quick to be eaten by Krolia. When Krolia had been close to leaving, she had fed Keith some of that sausage,  _the raw meat of viscera and animal fat_ , that she said would make him stronger, would make his instincts heightened, to keep him  _safe_.

 

What had Akira deluded himself to?

"Pa?"

"It's okay, pun'kin. You don't have to do that again."

Keith pulled his face away from his father's chest. The blood was smudged, his skin stained red. Akira smoothed Keith's hair back, cooing words of comfort and "I won't work there anymore" and "Let's move to the city".

"... No more?"

Akira looked down at Keith, his eyes meeting a face of longing and fear.

"What, pun'kin?"

"... I'm sorry."

"No, pun'kin. What is it?"

Keith looked away, which made Akira follow his gaze. They were looking at the dead, partly eaten rabbit.

"... Did you like eating the rabbit?"

Keith looked up to his father, who met his gaze again.

"Did you?"

Keith nodded.

Akira brought Keith close, his lips pressed to his son's forehead in a faux kiss. There was a pain on the side of his neck, one that he ignored for the pain in his heart.

"... Pa, it was warm. Warm like your hugs."

"Was it?"

"Like Ma's hugs."

* * *

Akira returned to the fire department just as he normally did. He stayed quiet throughout the day, cleaning the department. He saved his words for short, stoic answers.

"Something wrong, Akira?"

"It's nothing..."

"Does it have anything to do with those scratches on your neck?"

Akira looked at his partner, raising an eyebrow.

"What?"

"They look like cat scratches. Maybe you should get that looked at?"

Akira nodded, moving to the next room without his partner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 18 November 2018: Before I was even in the fandom, I used to see a lot of character analysis of the Voltron characters. It's actually one thing that got me into the fandom in the first place (I came after season 7 came out, don't hate me ;-;). Keith has been characterized by several defining attributes; however, on this lovely November day at... 3 AM, I realized some behaviors line up with this random syndrome that I remembered 3 AM.
> 
> This chapter will show the beginning of Keith's behavioral changes, mildly.
> 
> 27 November 2018: I now have outlines for 11 other stories that are all pre-canon, and then a 13-page outline for a series-timeline story that is based on just one initial idea that emerged after the first chapter of Oasis.
> 
> 4 December 2018: Maybe I should have avoided listening to Slipknot and Korn when we were writing this.
> 
> 4 December 2018: The reason that I chose for Keith's third birthday to be quite eventful is based on human psychology. At the age of three, a person's fundamental personality is solidified. I can say that I am very different from how we were as a child, but that is related to many defense mechanisms and socialization cues that we have learnt since my time in preschool to now. I was also in school since the time that I was 2, so my socialization started early for us. We are also Hispanic in America, meaning that there are many cues to interpret through multiple cultural lenses.
> 
> Keith is also going through this. This is due to his psychological health, his isolation, his separation anxiety (this does heighten in toddlerhood as the child is practicing interdependence and exploring, yet is longing for a safe place to return to, most likely with the parent) and his Galra biology. 
> 
> He has the need for raw meat, which is chemically different from cooked meat, meaning that he |must| acquire it in the means most readily available for his age. Ordinarily, a big cat would be getting the food for their child and teaching them how to hunt in practice, so that they may one day join the hunt. However, Keith is isolated, meaning that his hunting skills are raw and open to outside influences, mainly film and books which he has access to through Sego.
> 
> Keith's characteristics now (curiosity, perseverance, patience and yet impulsive) are things that would follow him into adulthood, and I wanted to have a clear starting point for him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira tries to make sure that Keith is safe in the world. Akira also tries to understand that his son may need to be away from humans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 5 December 2018: I'm running on insomnia, depression, and anger at the world. We got this.
> 
> 9 December 2018: More insomnia
> 
> 13 December 2018: I'm going to do my best to finish this story tonight.  
> 14 December 2018: 1:35 AM US/CT - 85 minutes to go.

"Keith, come over here, pun'kin."

The floor had been dirty again. Another rabbit had been sacrificed. Akira, unfortunately, had gotten used to it. Keith, once he was done eating, was quick to grab the hydrogen peroxide, bucket, gloves, and sponge. Keith had done what he could now, and it was something that Akira appreciated and hated at the same time. His baby walked over to him, a beautiful little four-year-old, and sat down next to him on the couch.

Keith, his hair up in a ponytail that was still long enough to lick at his waist, took off his gloves. After he wiped away his bangs, Keith looked up to his father.

"Pa?" Keith looked down at his father's arms outstretched. Akira took the extra step and leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Keith. Keith settled into his father's lap, humming softly.

"You're growing up real fast, baby."

"I am?"

Akira nodded, playing with the length of Keith's hair. He'd tried to cut it before, but Keith loved his hair. He'd only let Akira keep the ends healthy. 

"I think that I need to start teaching you how to use your mother's knife." Akira couldn't help but laugh at the excitement on Keith's face, in his eyes. Since Keith had gotten his mother's knife on his third birthday, Keith had made use of the holster that Akira had given him. Keith kept the holster belted to his thigh, where he could easily pull it out and use it if necessary, just as Akira had taught him.

"Please, Pa! I want to learn!" Akira nodded and led Keith to the door, where his son diligently put on some sunscreen. It was rare that Keith ventured outside, so Akira had gotten him into a routine should they leave the shed.

"We're going to start from the basics, but we're going to practice defense first."

Keith pouted as he made his way to a flat area where the sand had been pounded into the earth by time, his shoes having a grip on the ground. He removed his knife holster from his thigh and set it off to the side. They had gone over _tae kwon do_ and its forms of defense against knives before. They had even trained with different  _bō_ of different length before. However, they always started training with defense first.

"Why are we outside if we're doing the same thing we always do?"

"Because with the knife, I'm going to show you how to use it with a large amount of space around us. After that, you can learn how to maneuver in a tight area. Does that make sense?" Akira was now grateful that Keith was clever, part of him and Krolia that was quick to learn. Keith nodded and smiled.

"I hope that I can learn fast!"

'Not too fast, I hope,' Akira thought as he stretched out his arms, hands ready. He grabbed Keith by the wrist and smiled as Keith pulled himself out. They did the same with the other side. They moved through each method of escape of wrist grabs.

"Am I doing okay?"

"You're doing great."

When they began to practice sleeve grabs, Keith was able to escape and actually get into a defensive stance before Akira could come back to attack. When they began with a wooden knife as an extension, Keith was able to block and escape just as before. Keith was so proud of himself, that he was learning so well, that Akira had to avoid laughing several time. He wasn't laughing at his son, but his baby looked so happy, Akira had to laugh with happiness.

"Okay, so now you're going to attack with this." Akira handed Keith the wooden knife, which his son took too eagerly. They went into defense movements again, Keith able to hold his own rather well. Akira didn't know if it was due to his half-Galra nature or the fact that Keith was just damned determined.

When they were done, Keith wiped at his forehead, trying to rid himself of the sweat that had gathered there. There was hardly any. Keith did not sweat as Akira did. Usually, Keith was wiping off his hands in the heat, as often as Krolia did, but her son was most often wearing water-wicking gloves now. With those, he wiped away the sweat that dotted his forehead. 

"Am... Can we take a break, Pa?" Keith was panting, eyes glazed with fatigue. 

"Sure, pun'kin."

They rested for a while, trying to avoid the heat. Keith's gloves were still wicking the sweat away. There, in their little shack, Keith and Akira laid down. As Keith slept, Akira thought of the eagerness for fighting in Keith's eyes and the desperate want of blood that he knew pervaded his son's thoughts. As similar to Krolia as Keith was, Keith was still human to some degree. His son's heart was beating the same as Akira's did, wanting. Keith had wanted Krolia's knife the moment that Akira had mentioned it, and when he wanted to eat, he ate his rabbits, paying mind to clean them well.

On occasion, Akira had taken a black light to find if there was any evidence of what could prove violence in his house, yet there was nothing. Keith was skilled and knew how to make himself seem completely human, a child with a blank background in the most pure of ways; he was, after all, a child cleaning his own mess.

He played with Keith's long hair, pulled back into a ponytail. His fingers played with strands, locks. He played with the short hairs at the base of Keith's neck, knowing that if he touched his son's neck, Akira would be touching the Galra marking that proved that Keith was Krolia's son.

Akira felt a wave of nostalgia rush through him. There was also shame inside of him. Here he had a child, and he couldn't expose his child to the world, not yet. Keith loved his instincts too much to give them up for human mores and taboos. They made Keith so unique, and Akira couldn't tear him away from that. It would hurt Keith, and it would hurt Krolia as well.

A buzzing interrupted his musings. Akira looked to the source of the noise. It was Sego, whose alarm had been set so that Akira and Keith would awaken to continue training. How long had they laid there?

"Pa? Time to wake up!" Keith smiled, pressing a kiss to his father's cheek. "Can we use Ma's knife this time?"

Akira sighed, pressing a kiss to Keith's forehead. His son smelt like the sun, the desert flowers, and blood.

He reached for Krolia's knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akira is kind of going with the ideology of the Giver (from the book of the same name), when training his successor. All we can say is that experience is the best teacher.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akira was selfish, he knew that, and perhaps that would be Keith's undoing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 14 December 2018: 1200 - I finished Season 8 at like 10 AM. I cried for like 30 minutes, and the mental return to my life hit me so badly, I have to finish "Oasis" and then start with the main story, "White Hydrangea".
> 
> 15 December 2018: 0100 - Religion is mentioned. Spirituality is important, and I think it's the only part of health that I think that I haven't mentioned. (I fell asleep way earlier than I usually do. Voltron Season 8 hit me way harder than I thought, and I was also tired from waking up at 0100 yesterday.)

Keith had his book, the Bible, open to Genesis. Akira listened to his son's voice talk about lambs and mountains, of angels and fealty. It was a welcome distraction.

It was a hot July, and Akira had been called in to help out with the fire department. So many wildfires were spreading through the desert, far from where he and Keith lived. Homes were being devastated, and every day that Akira heard about it, every time Keith looked up at him with wide, saddened eyes that shown with empathetic pain, Akira felt guilt rot in his belly.

"Go, Pa."

"Will you be okay on your own?" Keith was now five years old, almost six come October, but he was still small. His instincts were sharp. Sometimes, when the mountain lions had not gotten all of the mule deer, Keith and Akira would go outside together. Keith would run, his long hair behind him in the wind of his movements, and his mother's knife would catch the legs of a buck in mid-run. At times, Keith caught two. Keith would signal for Akira to come with the truck, and they'd take their dusk or dawn hours to butcher the prey.

Keith could hunt, do his self-care, and properly feed himself, Akira knew, but what about other necessities? Keith knew how to make a fire, but there was no one around to see it, as Mr. Jerring and his wife moved away to the city two months ago. They never kept a phone around, and the radio that Akira used for communications was so old and worn-out that Keith wasn't able to finely tune it just yet. Keith cared for manners but what kind of child talked of death with practicality, that he loved his rabbits but would kill one of the adults to survive if need be? That he could clean blood as though it had never been spilt, but his baby would still cry, even if very little, at stories and other media, as though real life could not harm his heart but fantasy could?

"Pa... It's your job. You want to go for another reason too, right?"

Akira nodded, pressing his forehead to Keith's.

"The fires are coming this way. We won't have any food between the dust devils and the fires." The summer was dry but windy, two conditions that just made it worse for anyone and anything who lived in the desert. The tornadoes had not torn down their home, and the cellar was a safe space, filled with rations that could last the two of them over a year with healthy-sized food portions. However, they had lost the animals on their farm. They managed to butcher parts of the animals that had not been charred into inedibility, but that had been two weeks ago and has been hardly enough to turn into jerky.

"Everything I do, pun'kin, is for you. You know that, darlin'?"

"I know." Keith's voice was soft, and it made Akira want to rush out of the shack, if only because he would return to his son that much more quickly.

"If anything happens and I'm away longer than I know I'll be, you know what to do, okay?"

"I know... Pa, I'll wait for you."

* * *

Akira didn't know how many days passed. There were so many families in danger from the fires, and if nature could only think to toy with them, a tornado swept through one of the fires. Fire whirls began to become more frequent, and the number that continued to rise was in mortality.

"I'm going over here!"

"Anderson, follow Perrera!"

Akira was making his way after Logan into a house, the weight of his axe solid in his grasp. Logan signalled for him to go to the kitchen.

Empty.

Akira looked to the stairs, but Logan advised against it.

"The stairs might give-"

"And is someone is up there?"

A cry managed to curl itself over the flames, Akira looking up in fear.

"I'm going up!"

"Shit, Kogane!"

They both made their way up. The stairs had not given way in any spot, though they still tested the steps with shrap smacks with the flat sides of their axes. While they did, Logan began to speak.

"Why, Kogane?"

Why do this, when the fire had been raging for not minutes but almost an hour? When the air itself seemed flammable?

"... It's the right thing to do."

"No, really. Why?"

The cry came again, and Akira could hear a child, his baby, his son in the noise.

"For my son."

Logan's hand placed itself on Akira's back. It seemed hotter than any flame, any door, any kiss that Akira had ever experienced. For him to mention Keith at all... This was the first time he had ever mentioned Keith to anyone outside. Woong had died months ago, and Akira knew from talking to people in town that Woong had never mentioned Keith to anyone, out of confidentiality.

"Why didn't you ever mention-"

Was he ashamed? Was he selfish? He asked the door where the crying was coming from. The flames licked from the left, hungry for whatever foolish creature would come near, asking him the same.

Heaven, through sacrifice, or Hell, through the same sacrifice.

His sacrifice had been Keith's life, any chance of normalcy, and he had fooled himself into thinking that it had all been for Krolia, his angel.

Or had she been the Devil, a beautiful demon that gave him purpose and a son that he so willingly sacrificed at her behest?

Just as Abraham had taken his son to Moriah.

Akira looked to the door again, heard the crying. Logan was patting his shoulder, moving him over before attacking the door with his own axe. Maybe he could leave. The stairs were still sturdy.

But what would Keith derive from that? What would his baby learn? That survival was the only thing that mattered?

Akira cursed himself, following Logan into the room, into his Heaven-Hell.

He saw Logan going to help a young woman, Logan pointed over to the right, and Akira knew the damn smoke was fucking up his eyesight.

A child, a girl, that looked just like Keith. Dark eyes and beautiful long hair.

"Hey, there, honey. Come over here. We'll get you out of here."

The girl ran over to Akira. Her embrace was something that he should have expected, but it hit Akira harder than Krolia's fists when they used to train together, hurt more than when he had been shot in the arm the night that she left.

Keith could have this, could feel someone care for him, if he would just speak.

"Let's go, Logan!*

He'd free Keith from their Oasis in the desert.

* * *

"...ra! Wa-!"

He tried to speak, but it hurt so badly. It was so hard to breathe.

What happened? Where was he?

"-p your eye-!"

... Who was he?

Hot. Everything was hot, and the heat was curling in his lungs. Only one other thing could make him feel like he was suffocating. One person. Two people.

Gray-violet eyes. Who he was, the idea was not important.

"K-" he pressed out through his shredded mouth. It was the only thing that his mind provided. That sound, that short staccato sound that detailed the whole world to him. A woman, a child, an action.

Krolia.

Keith.

Killing.

They were every part of him that mattered, because they were the only reasons that he lived. They all existed in the tiny body that was going to be waiting for him, that he needed to go back home to. His only child, for he had never wanted such a thing with anyone else.

Who was he?

"K..." His lungs were not on his side.

Who was he?

"-shing! Intub-"

As he choked, not that he was gagging, he thought of gray-violet and the softest hair; it was the caress to a lover, a patting hand on a child's head, and the fur torn from a freshly slaughtered beast. They were Home.

Home.

Have to go Home.

There was a coolness around him that he didn't anticipate.

No, it was ice, so cold that it seemed to burn.

"-reserve. Possibly- ROSC?"

He tried again to speak, but he was choking without gagging, gagged with what was helping him to breathe. Cold was in his veins, and it was making him...

So tired...

"-burns! How- ROSC?"

"-losing him..."

"Family?"

He... He had one of those. A small one. Only one person, his son. His child. His baby.

"No."

That was a lie. He had lied and he prayed that someone would reveal his lie, this lie that he didn't understand but could feel in the pit of his stomach. Cold was in his veins, and it was making him...

So tired...

Who was he?

Who...?

Who?

...

* * *

 

There had been four deaths from a house fire related to the dry, acrid heat of July On a hospital bed, in the emergency room, there was a firefighter that lay there. Rather, there was the body of a man that was once upon a time a firefighter. He had been intubated, but the smoke in his lungs and the amount of burns on his body had overpowered the team's best efforts. The uniform that they had finally been able to cut away revealed burns that had traveled on his undershirt, insulated and fed by the uniform itself.

He died at 5:23 PM.

He leaves no family that anyone is aware of.

His home was destroyed by a fire whirl a while ago.

No one knew where he was staying.

No one knew a thing about him.

He was a hero; that's what mattered.

* * *

 

The Captain of the fire department knew that the empty plot of land where he was standing was once the home of Akira Kogane. The firefighter was a good man. The Captain only sighed; they had lost a good man. Looking around, he saw the shack just a few steps. From the public records, it didn't belong to anybody. Looking at it from around its perimeter, the Captain saw nothing inside. It was dark, but the outside was so worn. Nothing indicated that there was anyone or anything living inside.

He left it as it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was typing, and the Genesis chapter detailing the Binding of Isaac popped into my head. I noticed then that many details could match up.

**Author's Note:**

> Looking at the story between Krolia and Keith's father, it actually mirrors the story by Honoré Balzac. A soldier falling in love with a creature from the desert; it's as strange as it sounds...
> 
> This is the first part of a series.


End file.
